The Unpaintable
by tck-aesthetic
Summary: A series of 1-shots involving the characters in A Court of Thorns and Roses. My first fic, R&R please! The first chapter sucks but the second is way better, so if you don't like the first then please give the second one a chance!
1. Fire in Darkness

AN: So this is my first fanfiction ever, not what I will normally write but it just came to me. It's a present for Gina2019230 for introducing me to this brilliant book in the first place :) Please read, review, advice, etc.

I lean my head on Tamlin's shoulder, seeking heat in the places the fire can't warm. Tamlin obliges me, stroking my hair with gentle fingers as the golden glow suffuses my body. I smile faintly and turn my attention back to the fire eating at a few logs in front of us, trying to study it. I stare at the innumerable colors, the deep, rich brown of the logs, the smudged cream of a few shelf mushrooms on one of them, the mottled greens of moss on another, the roaring reds, furious oranges, golden yellows, translucent sapphires, and occasional flicker of starry silver of the fire. The golden light of the flames pools outwards, casting rings of elongated shadows of stalks of grass onto others that are a part of the uneven landscape and painting the trees at the edge of our clearing an almost-black green. It dims the inky blackness of the night air to a deep blue, illuminating our surroundings with a powerful light that flickers with every shift in the faint breeze kissing our skin. Glowing sparks are carried up by near-invisible smoke before fading into bits of ash and floating up to the pale moon hanging in the clear sky. I sigh as I realize that I will never be able to paint fire. I can't capture the fierce and treacherous creature on a canvas, I won't do it justice. I can never do the slight haze the heat causes in the air around it, or how the flames dance to their own unheard beat, leaping and swaying like a wild animal. I can't capture the untamed ferocity of the beast before me. I can capture the image, but not the feel, the heat, the occasional crackle from the logs, the crickets serenading us from the confines of the forest, the fireflies lighting up their own individual patches of sky, just how good it feels to be here, peace, quiet, and nothing but the two of us. Tamlin, as if sensing my contentedness, wraps his arm around me and draws me closer.

"I love you, Feyre," he whispers.

"I love you, Tamlin."


	2. Flight

AN: Sorry if Rhysand seems a little OOC... Anyway I tried to make this one longer for everyone. Enjoy!

I am sitting in front of a blank canvas, with a blank mind, a blank palette, and an empty paintbrush. The room is filled with my previous inspirations, scenes of isolated nature and warm, friendly gatherings, but they might as well be painted over in black for all the good they do me now. Sighing in displeasure, I set down my brush and palette, stand, and leave the room. Perhaps a walk through the garden will help to fill the empty void in my mind. The flowers never fail to awe and inspire me, and failing that, they will at least cheer me up from the funk I have drifted into. I go by way of the kitchens, snagging half a loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese wrapped in a handkerchief to bolster my lagging energy. Swinging the light bundle in one hand, I stroll through fields of brilliant color, the sun warming my back and shoulders as I gaze at the rows of flowers rippling like silken cloth in the faint breeze that touches me just enough to cool the heat the sun is bouncing off my fair skin. A shadow suddenly skims the shifting landscape before me, and I glance up in shock to find Rhysand gliding high above me. I grin and wave my hand at him, signaling for him to land. Rhysand circles, getting lower and lower, until he finally touches down a few feet from where I'm standing. His mouth is slightly upturned, which I know means he's excited to see me too.

"Rhysand! What are you doing here?" He schools his features into an expression of mock hurt.

"Good to see you too, Feyre. If I'm not welcome, I'll just leave," he half-whines, spreading his wings. I laugh.

"Don't be so dramatic." I hold the food I've been carrying out to him. "Want some?" He nods and I break off a bit of the bread and cheese and hand it to him. Rhysand eats it as we walk. "So what _are_ you doing here?" I'm still curious. He sighs.

"Just making the rounds. With Amarantha gone, the courts are in chaos. I've been visiting each one from time to time, making sure everything is in order, no-one's getting any ideas."

"But we're fine. You know that."

"True, but I can't play favorites, not even when it comes to you. Besides, why would I pass up a chance to come and see you and Tamlin?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Lucien too, I suppose," he grumbles. I bite back a smile.

"What are _you_ doing out here? I thought you'd be painting by now, it's nearly noon." It's my turn to sigh.

"I was trying to, but nothing comes to mind. I don't know what to paint. I came out here for some inspiration, but I've painted these flowers a hundred times. I need something new." His face takes on a thoughtful expression.

"I have something new for you to paint," he announces suddenly. I am suddenly wary. He sounds almost… gleeful.

"What…" I ask carefully. He stops in front of me and looks me in the eye.

"How about I take you flying?" For a moment, the words don't register. Take me flying? Then it comes to me.

"Ooooohhh.." I breathe, suddenly comprehending what Rhysand is offering. I hesitate. "Are you sure? Flying is really your thing, I don't want to…" He cuts me off with a wave of his hand.

"Don't be ridiculous. It would be my pleasure." I take a deep breath.

"Okay then." He lifts the corner of his mouth and stretches the wings on his back. I had forgotten that they were still there. In a flash, he grabs me around the middle, flaps his wings, and we're lifting into the air. I gasp as the ground falls away, the air rushing by my face. The sky is a brilliant blue, a few straggly wisps of cloud marring the otherwise uninterrupted majesty. Sparrows flitted by, twittering curiously at us. The flowers beneath us become nothing more than roiling oceans of shining color. I see the manor grow smaller and smaller, the faerie servants scuttling around becoming near-specks. The clear air tugs on my hair, yanking it free of the braid I captured it in this morning and blowing it into both mine and Rhysand's faces. I turn my head to look at Rhysand. He's properly smiling, grinning gleefully at me. His excitement is infectious, and I find myself grinning back. Despite the amazing view, I close my eyes against the rushing wind and take in my other senses. The air is fresh and clean, the wind whistles and blots out all noise. I spread my arms, which have thus far been tucked in against my chest, and extend my fingertips as far as they will go, listening to the sound of Rhysand's steady wingbeat and pretending that its mine. I open my eyes again. We're over the forest now, and although all I can see is rough green canopy and an occasional patch of earth, it's still amazing. Rhysand takes me on a slow circle, and I'm disappointed when he asks if I'm ready to come down. Even though I'm not, I know he wouldn't have asked unless he was getting tired, so I say yes and we begin to descend. I strain with my arms, reaching out as widely as I can, as if to capture the euphoric feeling of flight. I'm unprepared for being grounded once more, and I stumble slightly as my feet touch the ground. Rhysand is thankfully still holding my waist, and steadies me before releasing his grip. I turn around and hug him. Not for too long, just enough time to convey the full amount of my gratitude. He seems surprised, as though he doesn't truly understand the magnitude of the gift he's given me, but allows me to hug him all the same. I turn and begin walking back to the manor.

"Come and see Tamlin! He'll be glad to see you." Rhysand follows me back through the gardens, so different from the ground than they are from above.

Later that day, I slip away from the discussion Tamlin and Rhysand are having about the politics of the land and sneak to my painting room, locking the door behind me so I can't be disturbed. I fill my palette, dip my paintbrush in the first color, and begin to paint.

AN: By the way you should totally check out Gina2019230's work, it's amazing!


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